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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311584">Alliance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminous_nyght/pseuds/luminous_nyght'>luminous_nyght</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Liam - Fandom, One Direction (Band), Zayn - Fandom, ziam - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, UM trigger warning of sorts - eating disorders, angst angst angst, but also trying to get better, happy ending ofc, oh and drinking/being drunk, there is mentions of m/f with Liam but never by name lol, unhealthy behaviour is mentioned, which is v important to the plot, with a</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:41:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminous_nyght/pseuds/luminous_nyght</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Help me finish unpacking those boxes in the morning.” Zayn speaks into the space between them.<br/>From above he can feel it in his bones that Liam’s grinning his head off at the prospect.<br/>“I’m glad you’ve come home. "<br/>And so is Zayn. So glad that his mother dropped in to make everything right again. So glad Liam too never gave up on the idea of them.<br/>That in a way neither did Zayn.<br/>They’re standing on a fresh set of crossroads for the third time in their lives.<br/>There is understanding now. There is hope.<br/>And Zayn knows that this time, they’re travelling down the same stretch of road.<br/>Mashallah. He thinks.</p><p>And that's that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zayn Malik/Liam Payne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Alliance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey, thank you for stopping in.<br/>I haven't had the courage to post these two for a long time, but sometimes, things come full circle and we're here again.</p><p>You can find me at @lepetitzrince on tumblr!</p><p>All mistakes are my own.</p><p>Also it's Ramadan in and out of the fic - some important words : Sahoor - the time before the fast begins<br/>: Fajr - the first set of prayers of the day.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The whooshing of the water heater drives Zayn out of his sleep.</p><p> </p><p>His first instinct is to panic because there is someone in the house, but then he tells himself it’s probably Liam, arriving for his allotted visit.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn’s fingers go in search of his phone thrown somewhere under the light linen sheets.</p><p> </p><p>It’s 4pm already, he sighs defeated. Zayn was hoping to get the majority of his final uni project finished today.</p><p> </p><p>Lockdown was at this point doing his head in. Zayn likes routine yes, but he also likes popping down to random thrift shops around town and independent coffee shops to finish essays when he pleases.</p><p>In this state, he's basically been in the country and stuck at home for just over 12 weeks.</p><p> </p><p>He stops his thoughts for a moment, just in time to hear Liam turn off the water.</p><p> </p><p>Liam has been stopping by more often now that the government told the country they shouldn't be interacting with different 'households'. But as he's learnt Liam's not one to listen to guidelines. He's been stopping at least three times a week choosing to come here after his run.</p><p>The light in the room is sparse. His blackout curtains are keeping out the unwanted rays of sunshine still insistent on slipping silently into the room. The sliver of afternoon light lands on his arm as he checks the messages received during his now daily afternoon siesta.  </p><p>Once he’s sufficiently bored, he drags himself out of the bed for the second time today to wait for Liam out in the living room.</p><p>Zayn walks through his flat, he’s been back in London exactly 120 days and yet everything is still in these big brown boxes that roam through every room.</p><p>The thought of unpacking still makes him feel queasy. </p><p>He focuses instead on the freezer – and a cold pack of frozen peas to ease his now growing headache.</p><p>In the oven, he can smell some kind of roast, ready for iftaar later.</p><p>He smiles snugly around his teeth, mouthing <em>Mashallah </em>as he dumps himself down on the sofa.</p><p>Leaving New York was simultaneously the best and worst decision of his life.</p><p>Down the hall he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps as Liam comes down to check on him.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey jaan.” He hears just as a hand pries his fingers away from his face. “How are you feeling?” Comes the question as a small kiss drops on his forehead.  Liam now smells of his lavender body wash. Zayn wills himself not to react to the kiss. </p><p>The thing with him and Liam is that they aren’t okay. Haven’t been okay. And yet, Liam still comes round to make sure Zayn's<em> doing</em> okay.</p><p>“Got an essay due Tuesday. Still haven’t finished it.” He groans as Liam let’s go of him.</p><p>“And the peas?” Liam smiles as his sits in the free space between his legs and the arm.</p><p>“Oh,” He chuckles. “Massive headache, happens sometimes when I fast.”</p><p>He slits his eyes open enough to watch Liam bend forward to run wax through his still damp hair before whishing it gently into place. </p><p>"You shouldn't be fasting with your eating pattern." Liam reminds him.</p><p>It's a reminder that Liam still gives a damn. Zayn smirks. This has been a solid arguement between them for the last ten years.</p><p>Liam has always insisted that Zayn basically fasts the entire year round, he doesn't need one special month to do it. And it's true, Zayn's eating habits has always consisted of the least amount of food consumed possible, it wasn't on purpose most of the time, he just - well he doesn't really ever feel hungry.</p><p> </p><p>“I cannot stay.” Liam says softly moving on, because he knows pressing the point will get him nowhere. He's wiping the rest of the product into an old soft light grey towel, it makes him cringe when he realises it’s the one with Liam’s own initials are embriodered into it.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn isn’t surprised he isn't sticking around for an honest conversation though. Liam hasn’t sat down for dinner with him for what feels like years now.</p><p> </p><p>He huffs into the air and sits up, knees coming up to hug his chin as he lays his head against the back of the sofa.</p><p> </p><p>“There is lamb koftas in the oven, yogurt in the fridge and naan in the breadbin plus I’ve brought stuff over for you to make Biryani. Promise me you’ll eat tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn doesn’t speak, but he does hold out his little pinky to show him that he will listen and make food later.</p><p> </p><p>"You remember the ginger paste this time?" Zayn says as he watches him stand up.</p><p>Liam grunts at him signalling a yes and gets on with the business of leaving, as usual.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be back Monday,” Liam stops, then smiles naughtly, his voice playful and kind like the Liam he used to know, “I’ll bring you Paul macarons from Paris.” </p><p> </p><p>Zayn's eyes now snap open eagerly. He likes where this has gone today. He keeps his cool though, because he will <em>not</em> show Liam any form of emotional neediness. </p><p> </p><p>“Should you be doing that with a lockdown on?” He swallows around a smile,  because he's just about managed to control himself.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve not left these four rooms in a few months; I can bring some of Paris to you.” Liam chuckles walking over to ruffle his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“And anyways, since when do you follow rules.”</p><p>“Since there is a killer virus out there thank you, can’t exactly run off to Paris, Li.” He retorts, smiling slyly, chucking the peas at Liam, who of course, catches them with ease and drops them onto the dining table.</p><p>It makes Zayn smile that he catches glimpes of who Liam used to be before the downfall.</p><p>Zayn notices that he's lost weight again, probably from too much exercise. It's how Liam dealt with stress. The same way he didn't eat, you'd find Liam holed up in his gym for hours on end, trying to achieve something that he isn't needed.</p><p>He's always been so bloody beautiful to Zayn. </p><p>He looks him over again for the last time and wonders why Liam's been excercising so much. </p><p>Liam's hair has grown long and rugged now, he's got himself a little tan and a short 5 o’clock shadow covers his cheeks. A jumper is laying lazily on his shoulder slung there as Liam prepares to leave. </p><p> </p><p>Zayn smiles, Liam's doe eyed beauty never changes he thinks as he takes in Liam casually leaning on the kitchen island looking down at him stilll splayed out, almost like a display.</p><p> </p><p>“Please make something tonight. Not just toast and tea.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will, Li.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam seems satifised, shuffles around to grab himself a coke can from the counter and goes to leave. Zayn standing to slowly walk him to the door.</p><p> </p><p>Before Zayn shuts the front door, he sees Liam stepping into the lift grinning slightly waving bye as it huts.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn would be lying if he said he didn't wish Liam would have stayed longer. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>When he eventually moves back inside his flat, Zayn saunters over to the kitchen island to inspect what Liam had left for him.</p><p> </p><p>In a blue plastic bag he finds a set of spices which he can use for the next few weeks. It makes him grin slightly that Liam had committed all the curries Zayn taught him to memory years ago when they were young, dumb and utterly in love with each other.</p><p> </p><p>On the side stood a box full of meat Zayn is sure came from the Halal butchers in Kings Cross. He remembers the day he went off about it being the only good meat in town and he wonders if maybe Liam recalled it too.</p><p>As Zayn goes to open the fridge, he finds it stocked with all types of things he barely eats anymore. Begrudgingly he starts to store the things Liam hadn’t put away for him.</p><p>
  <em>Usually when Liam visits, it’s civil but cold. And in the entire time he’s come to call he’s definitely never brought over food for an entire month.</em>
</p><p>Zayn takes the time to remind himself that, it was in fact <em>his</em> decision to leave.</p><p>It was Zayn that decided to take a few steps back from their entire life.</p><p>It was Zayn that moved himself to New York to go to uni.</p><p>It was Zayn that wanted a change of scenery.</p><p>It was Zayn that moved to a city where he was able to slip away out of sight, when and where he wanted.</p><p>He thought he’d find happiness in New York.</p><p>Find his <em>calling.</em></p><p>And <em>yet</em> – he found himself wanting to come back home from the moment his bags hit the floor inside his flat.</p><p>He and Liam - they hadn’t broken up as such – they just kind of fell apart. Daily texting turned into four-minute phone calls and four-minute phone calls fell into silence within the first few months.</p><p>Liam hated the arrangement. Hated the way Zayn chose to go off into a different world. Hated the way Zayn could just go into a university setting without a second thought of giving up his music.</p><p>Because he didn’t – hadn’t – but it’s definitely taken a back seat.</p><p>Zayn looks at the clock when he swings the fridge shut. It reads 17.55pm and he wonders for a moment how long his sister will entertain tonight before they have to break for iftaar.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck it.</p><p> </p><p>He rings Safaa anyway.</p><p> </p><p>When she answers, the camera is already trained on Zaneyah who’s cooing loudly; snapping him straight out of his decrepitating mood.</p><p> </p><p>And honestly, that’s exactly the right distraction he needs at this point in time. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The next morning it's still dark out. Moonlight is seeping sheepishly into his room. He can smell the smell coming from his insense still, meaning he can't be have been asleep more then a few hours.</p><p>Slowly he comes to the realisation that he's managed to wake up for Sahoor for the first time since the beginning of Ramadan. His usual routine so far had been Fajr and sleep but today the smell of coffee brought him out of his dozing. </p><p> </p><p>He isn’t sure who is in the house. The one thing he's sure about is he's not invited anybody over. Even Liam wouldn't dare turn up without a presceduled time now.</p><p>Zayn groans, shuffles about in the sheets for a moment before dragging himself up to find a shirt he can throw over himself.</p><p>The moment he steps out of his room he can see the stark bright lights from the kitchen seeping into the corridor.</p><p>Zayn runs a hand through his hair hopefully to aid him in shaking out of his trance like state.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In his kitchen stands his mother.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The moment she sees him she starts speaking his ears out, but he doesn’t understand a word she’s saying.</p><p> </p><p>“Ammi.” He says. “Start again.”</p><p> </p><p>The clock on the fridge reads 2.47AM.</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere in the room the radio is on chattering away, he can hear the chatter, but again - he still couldn't make sense of it. He's not been up at this hour for a few years now, mostly since he's fixed his sleeping schedule - his head feels like it's about to crack open. He stops thinking, and focuses now on what his mum is saying.</p><p> </p><p>“Safi said you didn’t look too good yesterday. I worried, so I had to come see you.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn grabs a cup of coffee from the machine first; rubs sleep out of his eyes second and sits across from her third.</p><p> </p><p>“Ammi, the lockdown is a thing more people should obey you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes narrow, then drop. His Ammi has never liked him telling her what to do, but this time he's in the right.</p><p> </p><p>However as he looks at her, Zayn realises that she’s keeping something. Zayn knows her looks too well to let the look she's giving him go.</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t just <em>Safaa</em> was it?”</p><p> </p><p>His mum shakes her head no, then sits down herself.</p><p> </p><p>“Liam.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn rolls his eyes at the sound of his name. He was aware that both their parents remained closed. Was aware that Liam dropped in his family just to check up on them in the same way he does him.</p><p>Was aware that Safaa asked him to be Zaneyah’s <em>Godfather.</em></p><p> </p><p>But then again, his family never got told the whole truth. They don't know the entirety of the reasons he stepped away from basically <em>everything.</em></p><p> </p><p>Zayn himself refuses to think about it most days.</p><p> </p><p>“He told me you haven’t been eating much meri- jaan.” Her tone is soft ,he swivels his head to look at her. Her eyes tells him she means business, so he isn’t about to bullshit her.</p><p> </p><p>“Ammi, you could have called me. It’s not exactly safe to pop in like before, and for the life of me, how the hell did you get here from<em> Bradford?</em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Helicopter, I left at 11 last night.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Liam?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Liam.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m guessing he gave you the key<em> too?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>His Ammi faffs about in her purse for a moment, the produces a key card for the flat and a set of keys to a car he does not own.</p><p> </p><p>“He rented a car<em> too</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn shakes his head but doesn’t say anything, watches instead as she plates up his food. Watches how his mother rubs her fingers against a drying cloth. Watches how those same fingers run up to her hair to swish it out of the way. Watches his mother as she puts several plates on the counter in front of him.</p><p>Watches how much she’s aged in the last few years. The way lines have formed around the corners of her eyes, the way lines now sit neatly in rows on her forehead. Notices the white hair creeping out from her roots because of the lockdown shutdown. Notices that she's taken to wearing Sari's instead of the skinny jeans she was so insistant on before.</p><p>He's watched his mother age before his eyes and he's been too busy living with his eyes snapped shut to notice.</p><p>She looks at him then, her sweet smile encompassing her face as she rounds the island to come stand next to him.</p><p>Zayn’s response is to hug her.</p><p>Tightly.</p><p>“I’m staying for a little.” She speaks into his hair. As her turmeric tinged fingers run up to brush his hair into place. She runs her hands slowly, over his ears, down to his neck and shoulder and up again. </p><p>Almost savouring the moment.</p><p>Zayn certainly is.</p><p>His mother has always been his entire universe. The decision to reside on literally the other side of the world ripped away something deep inside of him.</p><p>Something he plans to make whole again.</p><p>“Liam arranged it so I go back right before we prepare for Eid, cause we know how your Baba gets when I’m not around for that.” She whispers as she pulls away.</p><p>He smiles briefly because he’s aware how his Baba’s entire life is built around the prospect of having his entire family over in celebration, especially now they've got Zaneyah to coo over.</p><p>“Eat up.” She orders as her hands reaches out to hand him the bowl of biryani.</p><p>“I don’t fancy spending the entire night awake jaan, I'm exhausted.”</p><p>Zayn takes it from her and watches again as she dots around his kitchen like she’s been visiting his entire adult life.</p><p>In reality he knows she’s just deprived of the honour of dropping in whenever she feels like it.</p><p>When she does sit down to eat, she does so with a smile on her face he seldom sees anymore.</p><p>She like it when he’s home. On this side of the pond. Where she could just come round as she pleases and not watch him disappear for months on end.</p><p>His mother will never stop mothering, most mothers don’t – but he’s tested her. Tested her<em> loyalty</em> and her <em>love</em> and never for a moment did she <em>walk away</em> from him when he needed her the most.</p><p>It’s why he isn’t half as mad as he should be that she’s turned up in the middle of the night to <em>feed</em> him of all things.</p><p>It’s why he isn’t mad at <em>Liam</em> for arranging this spontaneous lockdown visit.</p><p>It’s why he sits and eats the food she’s made because making the sale in New York has meant that the move back is as permanent as it will ever be and spending time with his mum is item number one on his priority list.</p><p>Zayn sips his coffee allowing time to process what Liam had achieved since he left his flat only a few hours ago.</p><p>His Ammi hands her phone over so that he can see pictures of Zaneyah he hadn’t seen yet.</p><p>He asks about Safaa’s new house and the ongoing renovation work. Waliyha's engagement. Doniya's promotion. He watches his mother full of pride as she describes how Saf’s taken to motherhood and how much Wali's fiance' suits her. And how proud they are of their oldest for choosing career over tradition. They pass moments like this in a quiet state, Zayn taking the time to enjoy her company realising for the first time how much he’s craved her attention like this.</p><p>They pray together, side by side for the first time in years. The experience makes him start believing that coming back wasn't so bad after all.</p><p>“Meri-jaan,” She says standing up to her full height to look at him. “I think it’s time I start unboxing some of these, don’t you?” She speaks pointing to his boxes.</p><p>She doesn’t give Zayn time to answer however because she pushes him down into the corridor and right into his room. The last thing Zayn sees before closing the door is his Ammi closing and placing his blue and gold lined coloured Qu’ran in the middle of the bookcase which has sat empty since the day he moved in.</p><p>Zayn sleeps soundly for the first time in what feels like months.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>When he wakes again there is soft music rolling through the house, gushing his ears with sound.</p><p>It is dusk out, the fairy lights across his room are on and a smell of food is wafting through his senses. For the first time this week, he doesn't feel bad for wasting the day. Sometimes,he's too harsh on himself and he'll be the first to admit he berates himself more often then needed.</p><p>Zayn shuffles in his bed. When he finds his phone it tells him that it’s nearly time for iftaar already. It must have been a longer nap then he assumed. </p><p>When he gets up, he pushes himself into the bathroom first. It allows him time to hear the gentle laughter coming from the front room.</p><p>As he washes his hands,  before he runs one hang into his hair to strengthen it a little and another over his face. Zayn sees pillow marks creasing down his neck. He looks younger without a full beard but at least with a full head of hair he feels somewhere close to himself. Zayn pulls a t shirt from the unused side of his bed before heading out to see who is making the extra noise.</p><p>“Ammi,” He says as he makes his way to the living room.</p><p>His mother turns around smiling. There are his books on the floor and frames against the sofa. He can see his crystals on the windowsill and his superheroes on the shelf  that only held his uni books up until that point. There is a drill case on the coffee table, a cordless drill sitting next to it. He wonders how on earth he didn''t hear them doing that looking at five freshly hung artwork on the walls. </p><p>He feels like a bit of a dick for having his own stuff framed - they're usually hidden in storage - his mother however, has decided to put them in the hallway. Making sure you see them when someone walks into his flat.</p><p>He shakes his head somewhere between anxious and embarrassed, it's when however he sees Liam’s head poke out from behind of the armchair.</p><p>“Jaan!” his mum says walking up to him. “I’ve recruited help.” She smiles, flicking her hand towards Liam who’s storing his comics away under the tv table.</p><p>He doesn’t speak, but he does smile down at Li as he gets up off the floor.</p><p>“I hope you don’t mind I asked him to stay over for iftaar, he brought us the drill.” He hears. Zayn finds himself shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>His life did not look like this twenty – four hours ago.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>From the corner of his eye, he can see Liam looking at him a bit lost.</p><p>Liam has known his mother ten years and never once has he been able to say no to her, no matter bad things stood with them.</p><p>Instead, he reminds both of them there is a lockdown out there.</p><p>They both laugh and share a look between themselves and sometimes he realises that he too needs to remember that what Liam shares with his mother is just as justified and valid as Zayn does.</p><p>After all, when he wasn’t around, Liam was.</p><p>Before long, Zayn’s being handed plates to place on the table, then cutlery and glasses and copious amounts of Coke cans. As his fingers brush Liam’s something dormant in him reacts and he shudders backwards.</p><p>Sometimes he manages to convince himself that he’s okay that it’s his fault they’re over, but other times karma comes home to remind him what he walked away from.</p><p>Once his mother is sufficiently pleased with Zayn’s newfound helpfulness, she walks over to the sofa to grab her scarf then smiles her way over to him.</p><p>“Come on,” she coaxes, “<em>let’s pray</em>.” His mum grins widely around her words, her strong northern drawl reminds him so much of his childhood. His accent hasn’t been that strong for years now.</p><p> </p><p>Media training does that to the unpolished way of the plebeians,</p><p> </p><p>Zayn relents, and let's her gently pulls him out of the room and into the bathroom for Wudu.</p><p> </p><p>“Liam can handle it.” She says softly as she closes the door.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn’s starting to think his Ammi is on a mission to play match maker.</p><p> </p><p>To a man he’s already been engaged to.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Twice.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Later when Zayn’s separating the washing up to put into the dishwasher, Liam comes in to help in.</p><p> </p><p>They don’t speak.</p><p> </p><p>But they do dance around each other like a well – oiled machine.</p><p> </p><p>After all he reminds himself, they’ve spent the last seven of the ten years they’ve known each other living together.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m staying the night.” Liam speaks as he sits down across from him. His hands are wrapped around a red Iron Man mug he had got Zayn more than a few of birthdays ago.</p><p> </p><p>“Found this in one of the boxes.” He says when he notices Zayn watching.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t think you’d keep it all this time.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn grins. “I have never thrown away anything you’ve given me away Li, I think snooping around more boxes would verify that.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam nods but doesn’t reply. Instead he grabs a slice of watermelon his mother had left for them to share.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve changed your coffee.” Liam notes as he places the mug on the counter. “I don’t like it as much as the Lavazza you used to get.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn smiles, then chuckles. “America hun, it changes you.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam’s eyes narrow at the comment and it gives Zayn time to realise what he’s said.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t mean it like that.” He reassures.</p><p> </p><p>Then he does something he doesn’t expect himself to do.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn moves forward to stand closer to Liam and reaches out his hand to place it on Liam’s cheek. To his surprise Liam’s own sticky watermelon hand comes up to rest on top of his.</p><p> </p><p>“Missed you Z.” It’s a whisper, a voice simultaneously full of hope and regret of a life lost.</p><p> </p><p>Liam then pulls Zayn into a hug, and for the first time since he’s arrived, he lets himself enjoy their touching.</p><p> </p><p>When Liam lets him go, they smile at each other in a way they haven’t done in years.</p><p> </p><p>He can feel that at some point Liam’s going to probe him for answers he isn’t ready to give him yet but for right now he let’s himself enjoy watch Liam drink his coffee whilst he rinses down the sink.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>After, just as he’s rolling up his prayer mat, he hears his bedroom door open. It’s Liam.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn stands.</p><p> </p><p>“Your mum is asleep on the sofa. I was gonna sleep there, I don’t know if I should wake her.” He’s whispering like he’s afraid of the answer.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn in turns smiles. “I think you’ve tired my mother out.” Liam grins, “It makes her happy having you home.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sleep in here.” Zayn tells him. "I’ll just wake her to send her to bed at least.”</p><p> </p><p>He can see that Liam’s about to protest. Zayn doesn’t let him.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen,” Zayn starts, putting a in the middle of Liam’s chest, “I have no clue how she’s convinced you to stay, she loves you like you’re hers and you sticking about after I spaced out means a lot to her. And to me. So take the bed Li, it’s only a night.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam nods once smiles slowly and backs himself into the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn tries not to think about it.</p><p> </p><p>A few short years ago, having his mother over whilst he and Liam had a few days together was madness.</p><p> </p><p>Actually he would have slapped himself silly, but right now it’s a bit of a gift cause he has no actual clue how to conduct himself without being awkward about it.</p><p> </p><p>And after all, Liam now has someone else waiting for him at home.</p><p> </p><p>Unlike him, but then again, he never really had that, because even when they were together, he spent the majority of the time sleeping alone.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn shakes the thoughts out of his head and leaves the room.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he can’t even stand his own head.</p><p> </p><p>He does wonder for a moment what Liam had said to her for him to be granted an overnight stay.</p><p> </p><p>On the way out to the living room, he stops at the linen closet and reaches for a couple of pillows and blankets before quietly makes his way to where his mum is.</p><p> </p><p>A few days ago he had a running streak of several months that he spent alone with his late-night thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Now there is not one but two people inside a space he’s existed alone in since before he’s even gotten himself back to London.</p><p> </p><p>The break in routine <em>might</em> help him. Might, because he isn’t sure just yet.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Zayn isn’t woken up as such, but his mother cluttering about the kitchen does indeed wake him. The light is a dimmed yellow it isn’t harsh but annoying none the less.</p><p> </p><p>The industrial edges he has means no form of lampshade exist within his space. Right now he’s regretting his conscious brain.</p><p> </p><p>As he shifts his Ammi notices and looks over to him to make sure she hasn’t woken him up. He wants to snap his eyes shut but he doesn’t, he likes that she is up and about in the precious time before Sahoor.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the time between the worlds of the living and the asleep. The time where the birds themselves are still waking up. The time in which the sky lingers from its royal blue, one still littered in thousands of bright lights dimming with the incoming golden rays. It’s the time that comes with a musical silence before the bedlam of a world waking itself takes over.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the time before the spell of night wander is broken, giving into the soul to find beauty in the newness of another day.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn isn’t what you’d call the greatest example for Islam, but even with his scheduling he’s always done his best to give himself time to have a few moments to himself thanking Allah for everything he’s been given in life.</p><p> </p><p>Even when he was head deep in back to back shows barely coming up for air. He’s always tried.</p><p> </p><p>It’s only the last few years, alone and without proper routine that he’s fallen a little behind.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn has never been good with change. It’s why his stuff has been left in boxes and why he’s been living off the bare necessities because change means growth and sometimes, he doesn’t feel ready for that.</p><p> </p><p>Change means healing from things that still hurt him. Change is learning to find acceptance that he cannot change the past.</p><p> </p><p>Change means find new meaning in old friends.</p><p> </p><p>Change means Liam asleep in his bed right now.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn sits up.</p><p>As he does, his his mum presses more lights on. She’s making food again.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to miss you when you go.” He says, wrapping his soft white blanket against himself as he stands up.</p><p> </p><p>His mum’s face breaks into a smile when she sees him.</p><p> </p><p>“Ten years away and you haven’t change one-bit Meri – jaan.”</p><p> </p><p>She’s pointing him up and down. It’s true he’s always had a habit of running around in blankets. As far back as getting up and ready for school when he was small.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Ammi.” He says quietly, dropping a kiss on her temple when he walks to her. “We should be quiet, for Li.” She says, holding his arm for a moment. It’s a warning, as a child holding onto him like that would always make him shudder.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get the mats.” He whispers. Her mouth wraps around a grin, happy with his tone now she lets him go.</p><p> </p><p>Silently he makes his way to his room. Swivelling the doorknob he swings the door slightly open. Zayn smiles softly. The room is dim. His fairy lights are on.</p><p> </p><p>Liam has always refused to sleep without a night light on.</p><p> </p><p>The bed barely looks slept in. The empty side is still tucked into place. Only his pillows have found a new home on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Liam’s face has always looked peaceful asleep. It’s when he was awake and drunk out of his mind that Zayn was scared of him.</p><p> </p><p>A light blue hue has singed the room. His hair is matted against the pillow and a floppy arm hangs off the mattress. He’s shirtless and it takes Zayn have a minute to realise that he can’t just go over to him anymore.</p><p> </p><p>He turns his attention to his closet.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn grabs what he’s looking for and leaves him still fast asleep as he closes the door behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn hates how the sight of Liam sometimes still gets to him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Back in the living room Zayn lays out the carpets. Taking the time to bring down the Qur’an from its newly found residence.</p><p> </p><p>From the corner of his eye, he can see his mum placing food on the island, ready for Zayn to place them on the coffee table. First though, he pulls out large marbled cushions from behind the sofa so they can sit around it. This habit began as a child during iftaar. Originally it was the kid table for when there where just too many people in one house, but he still prefers the choice if it presents itself.</p><p> </p><p>He’s a minimalist at heart. He hates the clutter of over expensive furniture. This flat came empty when he moved in and that’s how it’s remained bar from a few pieces he’s brought back with him. He likes clarity – and clutter makes his life harder.</p><p> </p><p>“Here.” He hears. When he straightens up, his mum is now handing him bowls ready for Sahoor.</p><p> </p><p>A jar of milk comes next, another bowl of dates and fruit.</p><p> </p><p>As he looks at what he’s being handed, Zayn starts wondering if Liam brought over more then one grocery shop because he doesn’t remember seeing strawberries before.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll poach the eggs later.” His Ammi is smiling. “I also need to finish off the banana porridge.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think it’s time for <em>Fajr</em>.” He murmurs. In response she looks at her watch and nods.</p><p> </p><p>However before they even have time to wash up for Wudu, they hear Liam’s door opening.</p><p> </p><p>From the dark corridor a sleepy Liam is bumbling out. He’s rubbing one eye and not exactly walking straight. However Zayn does notice that he’s managed to pull a shirt onto himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Did we manage to wake you?” Ammi’s voice is gentle. One of her hands runs up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. It’s what she always does when she feels awkward.</p><p> </p><p>“Li.” Zayn says instead, not giving either of them to carry on a conversation.</p><p> </p><p>Liam looks at him. His eyes are now fully open and alert. “Grab a cup of coffee.” Zayn smiles. “And the deck there –” he points, “The sun comes up from there, when we’re done, we’ll bring breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool.” Comes the answer. As he passes his Ammi, she reaches out to him and Liam drops a kiss on her cheek. “Sorry for waking you.” But Liam shakes his head,</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be silly – it’s nearly light now anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>As Liam passes him, he reaches for Zayn’s fingers. They brush for a moment before he moves away from him, but the reaction never changes. Pure lightning bolts rushing up his spine.</p><p> </p><p>He looks across to his mum who’s looking at him with intent. Zayn raises his brows and smiles. In return she sticks out her tongue.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn’s always loved this side to her Ammi. She was his friend, his protector, his control over self. She still knew him best, knew how to reign him in, knew how to slap him up if needed. She was one of the only two people that knew what to say to calm him down. Knew how to love him in the way he needed.</p><p> </p><p>The only other person that has ever been that way with him was standing on the opposite side of the room.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn shakes out the thoughts and starts to follow her down the corridor to start to get on with the rest of the morning.</p><p> </p><p>As they enter the bathroom – they hear the sliding door snap shut.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“Come home Meri – jaan. Come home soon.” It’s his Ammi, standing at his front door and an Uber is enroute. “I will.” He smiles. “Once the lockdown is lifted.” He asserts.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” Liam starts, walking down to them whilst tapping off a phone call. “the car will take you to the airfield and a chopper will take you home. Waliyha is picking you up from there. Just got off the phone with her, she’s setting off soon.” He’s smiling as Liam directs his mother’s trip home. He stops next to him as his Ammi looks over at him gratefully. “I’m sorry I can’t take you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry sunshine.” She smiles. “I’ll see you soon too?” Zayn watches as Liam nods happily and bends down to drop a kiss on her cheek. She in return hugs him.</p><p> </p><p>When she lets him go, his Ammi turns to him. Reaches out and hugs him tightly. She stretches up to kiss his forehead before she steps away.</p><p> </p><p>There is a ding on Liam’s phone signalling the arrival of the Uber. “Love you.” His Ammi says. “Both of you.”</p><p>And with that, she swivels on her feet to walk down to the lift.</p><p>"Oh Beta," She's smiling and turning round, " You've got enough food for the month!"</p><p> </p><p>When the lift dings, she turns round to step in, allowing her to start furiously waving goodbye at both of them. A smile on her face so big Zayn’s more than glad she came.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“Come here a minute.” Zayn hears a few moments after closing the front door. He’s breathing a little heavily, but he tells himself to calm the fuck down, because it isn’t the time nor place to get nostalgic.</p><p>With that in mind, he walks through into the living space, Zayn’s eyes land on the kitchen counter.</p><p>There sits a box full of Paul’s pink macarons.</p><p>Zayn breaks into a smile, then a laugh. He had no idea that Liam had in fact got him them.</p><p>Zayn’s eyes flick up to look at him. Liam is smiling shyly, his wringing his fingers with nerves. There is sunlight on his face, and he wonders why he still can’t describe him as anything else but beautiful.</p><p>“I had to hide these from your mum.” Liam speaks. “She was going through the groceries and I had to put them somewhere she wouldn’t see."</p><p>His Ammi had a bigger affinity for the things then he does. And that’s saying something, because it’s the only thing on the planet that Zayn can eat boxes of.</p><p>Zayn smiles.</p><p>“And you put them where?”</p><p>“The washing machine.”</p><p>At this, both of them fall into fits of giggles.</p><p>“That’s hard.” Zayn smiles. “She’s been rifling through every single thing since she’s got here.” Liam nods and watches as Zayn walks over to start to see what to prepare for iftaar.</p><p>Zayn likes this, likes that his mother arrived and broke years of ice – sheets between them. Likes that they can speak without sadness attached to each word.</p><p>“I told her that I need a few days to figure shit out.” Liam comes out with suddenly. Liam and him don’t discuss <em>her. </em>Zayn stops, closes the fridge door and turns to look at Liam. </p><p>The one-time Liam tried discussing it – it was obvious from the way Zayn had reacted he didn’t’ want to hear that. This was different though; Liam volunteering information means something.</p><p>“So,” Zayn says loudly, from across the room he can see Liam’s colour going white.</p><p>“She doesn’t know you’re with me.” It’s a statement because really there is no point denying it.</p><p>Liam nods and jumps up to sit on the granite counter. “It’s getting harder the longer it goes, not getting easier.”</p><p>“Li, that’s most relationships.”</p><p>"Like us you mean.”</p><p>Zayn is looking straight at him. The more Liam talks the more colour he loses.</p><p>It prompts Zayn to walk over to the coffee machine and switches it on. Liam needs caffeine before he passes out on him.</p><p>“What’s been happening Liam? Because last time I checked you’ve been playing happy family all fine and dandy.” Zayn’s eyes flicker up to his face just as Liam’s teeth start biting his bottom lip.</p><p>“It’s changed.” It’s a little more then a whisper. “It’s changed since you’ve come home.”</p><p>“Li, I fail to see how that’s my fault.” Liam’s eyes flicker closed. Defeated.</p><p>“I know but stopping in to see you now and then has caused so many fights that I’m just over it.”</p><p>Zayn doesn’t reply immediately, takes the time to pour out the coffee first,  then find a small plate for some cookies, placing four down on the island next to Liam.</p><p>Liam immediately grabs one and bites. After all Zayn reminds himself, the chocolate digestives have always been his favourites.</p><p>He brings himself back to the conversation.</p><p>“I never asked you to come see me.” Zayn says. “I never stopped you yes, but I never said that I needed you to come.”</p><p>Zayn hands Liam the mug and jumps up to sit on the other side of the cookies. He sits cross legged facing him.</p><p>Liam mirrors Zayn, in another life they did this at 4am when one of them fancied ice – cream.</p><p>“I came cause I wanted to see you really. I came because it’s the first time in years we’re in the same country for more then a few days at once. I came because it was a break from all the fighting. I came –”</p><p>Zayn stops him. A finger comes up over his lips.</p><p>“You came to see me because you were worried.”</p><p>Liam nods, his eyes falling down to look at his hands wringing out over his thighs.</p><p>"I also wanted to be here.” Liam says as he fingers grab his coffee.</p><p>“But you never stayed.” Zayn countered.</p><p>“I couldn’t – ever time I try, I remind myself why you walked away, and I couldn’t – I can’t do that again.”</p><p>Zayn sighs and shimmies forward so that their knees are now touching. Liam’s cupping onto his mug for dear life as he watches Zayn come closer.</p><p>“I <em>left </em>Liam. I left for other reasons that have nothing to do with you. And I left for all the reasons that had to do with you, and I wasn’t really planning to come home, it just kinda happened.” As he says this, he makes sure he looks Liam straight in the eye. Liam in turn fidgets, not knowing what to say.</p><p>Liam’s gone white again, his anxiety showing though his façade. He hates the intimate terms of anxiety but as of yet he’s still familiar to the symptoms.</p><p>“You know,” Zayn continues. “Coming home seemed unbearable yet staying out there was hell.”</p><p>At that, Liam’s glances up. He can see a flicker of something behind his eyes.  </p><p>“I <em>left </em>because watching you drink yourself into oblivion hurt<em> me</em> Liam. I <em>left </em>because I couldn’t take it anymore. I <em>left</em> because looking at you and seeing you splayed out on the floor off your mind in a pool of vomit more nights then not made me question what the fuck, I was doing still trying to placate you. You sobered up the moment I was gone. Me not being around meant you didn’t have to make sure I didn’t die on your watch. I was a mess then, but you were a bigger one.”</p><p>Liam slides backwards. Away from him. The action hurts Zayn a little before he reminds himself that it’s a good thing that he’s started to tell him the truth.</p><p>“These last two days, hell every time you’re over, it’s been nice to see the Liam <em>I fell in love</em> <em>with</em> all over again. No alcohol crazed rants and lost time, no vitamin shots, no steroids. Just the Liam that I met at that McDonalds that day, the Liam that kept that receipt in his wallet to remind him of the day lightning struck. The Liam that chose to learn every single dish I could ever show him. The Liam that would repeat words like <em>Assalamualaikum</em> and <em>Alhamdulliah </em>just to know how to greet my <em>Daadi</em> properly. The Liam that took me to Centre Parcs three weeks after meeting because he couldn’t believe I’d never been on holiday. The Liam that bandaged me up every time I did something stupid. The Liam that even when I got hard to deal he patiently put the pieces back together. The Liam that was strong for both of us.” Zayn stops to catch his breath and so that he doesn’t get carried away.</p><p>Liam’s looking at him now, scrutinising his face. His eyes are burning filled with intent.</p><p>It makes Zayn a little conscious of the fact that his hair is messy and unwashed, and that maybe his breath might actually stink from the fasting now that they’re a little too close. And his beard is definitely not as grown out as he’d like but right now, he tells himself that he doesn’t care, because it’s the first real conversation they’ve had in years.</p><p> “And Li,” He whispers coming closer to him again. “For the sake of the truth, <em>I have never stopped loving you </em>but letting you hurt your body to numb yourself from taking care of me was a cycle that needed to stop and walking away was the only way I had to let you get help. You understand that don’t you?”</p><p>This time it’s Liam coming closer to him. It’s Liam placing the mug on the island before reaching out to place his arms around Zayn.</p><p>Zayn closes his eyes and drops his head onto Liam’s collarbone. <em>He’s missed him</em>. Missed Liam touching him. Holding him.</p><p>Zayn can feel Liam’s head swivel and then a kiss drops on his ear. Then another on Zayn’s cheek and another in his hair.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” It’s a little more than a whisper but Zayn catches it anyways.</p><p>“Me too.” He replies. Because it’s true and because saying it feels right.</p><p>They stay like that for a while. Clinging onto each other for dear life.</p><p>Zayn wonders if there is some sort of way to find their way back into some sort of normality.</p><p>*</p><p>“Drink the coffee.” Zayn says, pulling away after a little smiling. “Before it gets too cold.” He reminds Liam.</p><p>Liam nods, the lines under his cheeks becoming prominent as he smiles. “And stay tonight. After all, you’ve got a few days no, that means you’re here for Eid?”</p><p>Liam eyes sparkle at the mention of it. He’s always loved how they came together simply to celebrate. They had missed a lot of things whilst they flew around the world, but Zayn always tried to get them those few days off before.  </p><p>He watches as Liam swallows his mouthful of coffee before, “She thinks I'm with your mum.” Then he smirks, realising he’s now free to stay over longer.</p><p> </p><p>“Li, I have a feeling you don’t exactly care.” Now he shakes his head. “I do and I don’t really, it’s been like this from when Louis told me you’ve came back if I’m honest.”</p><p>Zayn’s hand comes up to rest on Liam’s cheek. “I still think you have to go back and have a chat in a while. We didn’t do that, and it’s just caused more harm than good. I don’t want you to ghost her.”</p><p>“I won’t,” Liam reassures, “but I don’t know how to go round it exactly.”</p><p>“Just tell her the truth. You and me, we haven’t really done that and look where that’s gotten us.”</p><p>With that, Zayn climbs off the counter to go find what his mum has prepared ready for later.</p><p>On the kitchen counter, sits a tray covered with a linen cloth. When he moves it, he sees two freshly baked loaves of bread and dough for the chapati’s. It makes him smile.</p><p>His mum coming in to check up on him, and then leaving him things for iftaar makes his heart happy.</p><p>It’s funny how she’s come and gone and has basically left him in the care of Liam. It’s like she knew that her presence around both of them at the same time would make them talk.</p><p>From the corner of his eye, he watches Liam hurriedly texting on his phone.  </p><p>He tries not to think about it.</p><p>Zayn goes over to take away his now empty mug and the empty plate of cookies to put in the dishwasher.</p><p>Liam doesn’t look up from his texting.</p><p>A minute later, one of Liam’s own songs is filling up the room. Liam doesn’t speak but he does look up at Zayn, shrugs then gets off the counter to answer the call.</p><p>He realises that it’s probably <em>her </em>and the cheesy ringtone was chosen by her too.</p><p>He thinks about the moment for a moment before shaking the thought out of his head.</p><p>Zayn in turn stops fussing about to watch as Liam walks over to one of the floor to ceiling windows next to the deck, before realising it would be better to do this outside.</p><p>Unlike <em>them </em>the fight is loud and clear. Zayn’s never been good at all out fights. Shouting and screaming his way to a point has never really appealed to him, and even now, years later, heated conversations between him and Liam always happen in hushed voices. It’s only when he’s mad, at himself more often then not that he gets mean and punches himself through a bathroom mirror.</p><p>Zayn sighs and turns away and walks himself in the other direction to the other side of the flat. He tells himself, that he should probably find the pair of boxing punchbags buried somewhere in the boxes.</p><p>Before he turns a corner, he hears Liam’s voice still calm but definitely louder.</p><p>It makes him shudder.</p><p>Zayn doesn’t exactly want to hear any of it.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Later when it’s over, he can hear Liam coming down the corridor into the library.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn is sitting on the long wooden grey table running through his essay on his laptop.</p><p> </p><p>He still has deadlines he’s not thought about in a while and falling behind literally makes him want to rip his skin out.</p><p> </p><p>“Better?” He asks as Liam comes into the room.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn watches as Liam looks around. Looks at the dark blue floor length curtains first, then the light grey armchairs. He watches as Liam’s eyes scan the entire room. The wall to wall of bookcases yet to be filled. The plush charcoal carpet that Zayn picked out himself and finally he watches as his eyes rest on him. Zayn flicks his eyes down, embarrassed for a moment Liam caught him staring.</p><p> </p><p>“Z, do you really need the Ravenclaw thing to be so damn obvious.” Liam’s laughing. He hears it loud and wafting its way into the room. Zayn takes the time to enjoy the Harry Potter reference because well, the library is the only place he’s actually bothered properly furnish.</p><p> </p><p>“Better?” Zayn asks again looking away from his laptop too look up at Liam sauntering around the space, taking it in.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Liam replies a little more serious than he expected but then Liam’s eyes are almost glowing with relief. “But it’s a start.” Liam continues.</p><p> </p><p>“So she’s packing?” If it was anyone else, his sense of humour might be seen as mean.  But to Liam – well he laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not happy about leaving the status I think, more than leaving me.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn’s eyes narrow.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s sad.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the illusion of fame.”</p><p> </p><p>Zayn sighs knowingly.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hun,” He grunts. “Don’t get me started about that."</p><p> </p><p>*                                                                         </p><p> </p><p>Later in the night, after they’ve demolished most of the food in the fridge, Liam comes over to where he is sitting on the deck, handing him coffee and placing the macroons between them as he sits himself next to him.</p><p> </p><p>Zayn lives on the top floor of an apartment building. The selling point is the view that came with the place. It’s like New York, but different. From where they’re sitting, he can see couples walking along the lamp lit promenades of the docks below. There are yachts lined up next to each other like they’re waiting for inspection in the marina. In the foreground lights are coming off each skyscraper but, in the distance, the red hue of the London eye lights up the sky.</p><p>London never gets old to admire. London after all, is still the city of dreams. Zayn sometimes wonder why how on earth he ever got so lucky. </p><p>"Remember Paris?" Zayn's asking, smiling as he watching a couple latch a lock onto the bridge below them, "I wonder if that lock's still there." He muses out loud. </p><p>"Oh darling, it is." Liam is saying almost giggling, looking down himself to watch them kiss over the railing. "Young love, right there." He says, offering the plate, and letting him take one.</p><p>He looks up the sky then, the sun had set, and he watches as the dark midnight blue of night takes hold. Watching the stars has always been their go too dates when the pressure of being perfect got too much for them.</p><p>He wraps his blanket around himself at the thought, shuddering.</p><p>That was a lifetime ago now. He feels Liam straighten himself against him, always remembering something he wished he didn't have too. </p><p>“Z.” It’s hushed and quiet but just enough to hear Liam calling him.</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“Do you ever wonder if I wasn’t drunk that night.”</p><p>Zayn stiffens in his thoughts because he knows exactly which night of their trip Liam’s referring too.</p><p>He turns his head to stare at him. They don’t speak but he’s well aware that Liam’s searching his face looking for some sort of reassurance.</p><p>For a moment, his mind lapses to the stuffy hotel suite saturated in things he doesn’t own anymore. The smell of Liam’s aftershave, and Liam’s grip on his shoulders as he’s screaming incoherent stuff at him. The clasp around his coffee tightens as his mind races to find an answer. <em>Any answer.</em></p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“It wasn’t just the alcohol that night Li. It was a range of other mistakes too.”</p><p>He seems Liam’s face fall. His minds lapses again, this time it’s the grey tiled sterile room he spent four days in. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the memory.</p><p>None of this is new information, to either of them, but neither of them have ever wanted to talk about it.</p><p>Zayn inhales and tries again.</p><p>“I dealt with things uh badly to say the least – but you, you kinda just went right off the skyscraper a while before that night.”</p><p>Liam’s hazel eyes darken in the ever-fading light around them. Because after all both of them remember the front – page newspapers of Liam drunkenly standing on the edge of that tower.</p><p>“I’m not sure how I lasted till March if I’m honest.”</p><p>Sometimes he thinks about it. Thinks about walking away from a perfectly manicured life crafted for him, a life that spun so out of control he didn’t know where to press the stop button. A life that’s blessed him in so many ways but broke him in so many others.</p><p>Zayn takes the time to remind himself that what he has now far outweighs everything and everyone he lost in the process of finding what he can give back to the world.</p><p>“I’m not sure how you lasted at all if I’m honest.”</p><p>Now Zayn looks at Liam again. It’s the first time they’ve had the chance and mental capacity to have a conversation about it.</p><p>“Most important thing.” Zayn starts reaching a hand across to Liam’s face to reassure him that things are better now. “I’m sitting here alive and kicking and not in a box somewhere and you’re here fighting every day to get better.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>But Zayn shakes his head.</p><p>“No <em>meri </em><em>–</em><em> jaan</em>, I am.”</p><p>*</p><p>After that they sit there, sharing old stories of a past life and making up the lost spaces of time.</p><p>
  <em>Laughing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Old inside jokes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Happy memories. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>First kisses.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Paris in the rain. </em>
</p><p>They aren’t okay – Zayn still has a mountain to climb and Liam fights a daily battle with full time sobriety.</p><p>But for the first time in years, they’re able to sit down and converse about things that hurt without feeling like Zayn’s about to lose a limb.</p><p>Liam gets up, wraps a different blanket around himself and comes to sit next to him. An arm goes around his shoulder letting Zayn settle his head in the crook between Liam’s jaw and neck. Zayn pulls the extra blanket over him too.</p><p>A small kiss is dropped onto his temple and for the first time it really feels like Zayn’s turned a corner.</p><p>They sit there looking at the stars silently wondering how and why everything went so wrong.</p><p>“Let’s do this more often.” Liam whispers into his hair.</p><p>“Let’s.” Zayn affirms, his free hand coming up to find Liam’s free one.</p><p>It feels nice to just be able to do that.</p><p><em>Alhamdullilah </em>he thinks. Praise be to God.</p><p>As the moon rises over the clear dark sky, and the light from the Eye sits there like a beacon of hope, his mind wonders back to that one night in New York sharing that Christmas dinner with a family he did not love, in a house that never felt like home.</p><p>He questions for a moment whether or not it was his red tangled ribbon was calling him home.</p><p>Calling him home to Liam.</p><p>Maybe moving back just before the world shut down was the universe telling him he’s right where he needs to be.</p><p>Zayn makes a mental note to see if he can switch his degree program to one closer to home next semester.</p><p>The thought makes him smile.</p><p>This is <em>not</em> where he was a few short days ago.</p><p>“Help me finish unpacking those boxes in the morning yeah?.” Zayn speaks into the space between them.</p><p>From above he can feel it in his bones that Liam’s grinning his head off at the prospect.</p><p>
  <em>“I’m glad you’ve come home.”</em>
</p><p>And so is Zayn. So glad that his mother dropped in to make everything right again. So glad Liam too never gave up on the idea of them.</p><p>That in a way neither did Zayn.</p><p>They’re standing on a fresh set of crossroads for the third time in their lives.</p><p>There is understanding now. There is <em>hope.</em></p><p>And Zayn knows that this time, they’re travelling down the same stretch of road.</p><p><em>Mashallah. </em>He thinks.</p><p>And that's that.</p><p>*</p>
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